Holes
by lookafic
Summary: How do you tell your mother you killed a man and don't regret it?
1. Chapter 1

Note: This is the first half of a two-part fic, but it can stand alone. Novel spoilers.

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Karan gets out of bed at four o'clock every morning to fire up the admittedly aged ovens and bake the bread, muffins, butter rolls, donuts, and cravats required for the day.

At six she wakes Shion up to help load the ovens with batter. He always seems to feel a little guilty for allowing her to do most of the work alone, but Karan insists the bakery is her work, and Shion's is elsewhere.

He agrees, and they eat breakfast together.

It's a routine they've settled into comfortably since Shion's return.

But today as she walks out of her room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she finds her son already up. He's sitting at the coffee table, a coffee cup in his hand, face concealed by too-long white bangs. His shoulders are shaking slightly as he brings the bitter liquid to his lips.

Karan can't remember Shion ever drinking coffee before.

His head tilts up as he sees her door open and he tries desperately to offer her a smile.

"Good morning, Mom"

Her heart clenches a little at Shion's expression. He succeeds in a smile but it locks at his cheeks and refuses to reach his eyes.

It's wrong. Shion should never have to fake happiness around her. He shouldn't have to fake happiness at all.

She wants to hold him, pull him close, and ask him just how long he's been awake, how long he's been in the kitchen drinking alone unable to escape his own thoughts, but what comes out is a casual, sweet-sounding,

"Good morning Shion."

And Shion cracks. The wrong-looking smile scrapes off his face and he brings the coffee to his lips again to keep from making a sound, but she sees the red of his eyes, and the small tracks left by his tears.

She doesn't say anything but she doesn't have to, because she is his mother and she _knows _him in spite of all the world's efforts to separate them.

She does hold him then. Wraps her arms around his sitting form, pulling him close because he was, and still is, _a child _and he buries his face in her apron and it smells like bread and safety and home. She lets him cry as long as he needs and doesn't let go.

Karan doesn't know whether he's mourning the dead or missing the living, but she can feel the wind blowing through the two gaping holes in her son as he whispers against her apron, vulnerable, and exposed.

"I'm really glad you're here."

And Karan hates that her son has known this void so early on.


	2. Chapter 2

Shion takes the day off work. It's the first day off he's allowed himself to in three months and Karan is relieved for it.

He has a fever, the highest she's ever observed on him since he was 11 and was victim to a rather vindictive respiratory infection.

Of course, back then, they were covered by the city and the process was entirely different. Different, painless, quick, and in the form of little white pills over two days.

Illnesses were treated far differently in Lost Town. With their insurance gone, obtaining proper medication in times of illness was considerably more difficult. However, in Karan's presence, Shion mercifully had only contracted small viruses treatable by rest and lots of water.

It was only during those small illnesses that Karan truly missed their former life.

Early on, before the Doctor started visiting her bakery, Karan would wait by her sleeping boy's bedside, changing the cool towels on his forehead, silently willing his illnesses not to get worse, with no idea of how to treat him if they did.

Karan was always ready to call in every favor she had to keep her boy safe.

Now there isn't any need for favors. The reconstruction committee has brought in numerous doctors from outside the city to handle medical treatments for those suffering from the aftermath of Holy Day. The Doctor, however, lives closer, and Karan is determined to get help as quickly as possible.

She tucks her ill child in to bed, kisses his forehead, and wraps him up in blankets in the way she used to, promising to call Renka to watch over him as she stands to fetch her customer.

She sees a memory flicker in Shion's eyes at the mention of the Doctor and he simply shakes his head, voice coated in sadness.

"He won't be there."

Karan's stomach churns at how Shion knows this fact and it's all she can do to softly kiss his forehead and whisper, "I'll contact the committee then."

She stands up and a clammy hand wraps around hers, stopping her from leaving. His hands have gotten rougher, his grip stronger, but the feeling of her son's hand in her own remains the same. She sits by his bedside and strokes his knuckles with her thumb. When he speaks, his voice is clearer than she expects.

"I'm going to be alright. Will you stay with me?"

She's certain he's putting up a strong front, but she nods and brushes some hair out of his face. It too, feels different. Karan adjusts.

"I want to tell you something." Shion swallows, voice a whisper, "I've wanted to but I—" He shuts his eyes, has to try again, Karan has to know "—I just don't know how to."

His mother's hand feels cold on his scalding skin and it feels a little wrong to be touched with such tenderness when he's trying to speak of something so difficult.

It isn't that he regrets his actions. He doesn't. He can't. If he hesitated, just for a moment, Nezumi would be dead. The city would be destroyed, and his mother with it.

He'd shoot Rashi again without hesitation. He'd shoot anyone to protect those he cared about.

But how can he possibly say _that_ to his mother?

He swallows and Karan's hand squeezes his own. She looks at him and Shion finds immeasurable peace in the brown of her eyes.

"You don't have to, if you're not ready."

Shion loves his mother. Loves her kindness, her warmth, her honesty. He trusts her. He has to tell her.

_I shot a man._

Why can't he say it? He tries to look at her. He's tired of looking away from her. He opens his mouth, shuts it. The words won't come.

_I don't regret it._

He buries his face in the pillow. Karan strokes his hair.

_He'd asked me to save him and I let him suffer before shooting him again._

He opens his mouth. Closes it. What's stopping him?

_I killed him, Mom._

Her voice is warm, "Shion. You aren't obligated to tell me, you know." She pokes his cheek, Shion turns and faces her, ashamed he ever turned away, "It is not that I don't want to know, because I do, but not if it hurts you."

_I picked up the gun and aimed it at myself but Nezumi cried and I couldn't do anything._

She smiles. "I want to help you with your burden, if I can. But there are some wounds that sharing doesn't heal. Now, I don't know if this is one of them." She sighs, her eyes gentle but shining with another emotion Shion can't quite figure out.

_I still don't know if I can be forgiven. But I'd do it again._

"I want to know. You're my son, and I'll love you regardless. But don't open your wounds because you feel obligated to tell me. Tell me if you want me to hear them. If you want me to help you bear them."

_Shoulder it. Shoulder it, and live on._

The words appear in his head, clear and as pleading as the day Nezumi whispered them.

Shion would live. He would get stronger. Because he was alive, and he would live on with the knowledge that another's life has ended because of him.

But he wasn't alone. He finally met Karan's eyes, and took a deep breath.

Shion held his mother's hand, and told her everything he could.

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Notes: "Shoulder it— shoulder it, and live on" is from No. 6 Volume 7 Chapter 4

The doctor Karan and Shion refer to is the doctor that is murdered after treating Nezumi in Volume 9.


End file.
